


Intoxicated with Fear

by caffeinechesters



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Body Horror, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, M/M, Sam Winchester in Lucifer's Cage
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-25
Updated: 2019-10-25
Packaged: 2021-01-02 18:54:06
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,606
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21166397
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/caffeinechesters/pseuds/caffeinechesters
Summary: Jack's Lucifer hallucinations never stopped even after he returns from the empty, but he has a plan to defeat Chuck.





	Intoxicated with Fear

**Author's Note:**

  * For [saintsammy](https://archiveofourown.org/users/saintsammy/gifts).

> I was toying with this fic idea for a long time. When the SPN Eldritch bang came around again, I knew I had to do it.
> 
> A big, big thanks to my lovely artist and friend Kay, aka Saintsammy.

  
“Lucifer is dead,” Jack repeats to himself in the privacy of his room after coming back from Heaven. After hearing Sam’s prayers.

Lucifer, perched in the corner of the room, is disagreeing. He knows that he should Sam or anyone really about this. Jack knows he should, but he’s afraid of worrying about them when they have more important things to worry about. He hates to Sam worry or lose sleep like when Michael took over Dean.

“You know, Sam and I were a thing in the cage, right buddy,” Lucifer pipes in. “Don’t let him fool you. He loved it, not the frigid bitch he is now. But he left me there to rot after he got his get-out-of-jail-free card after keeping my Michael away from him.”

Jack tries to ignore him. His father is still rambling on about Sam’s betrayal and how he’ll leave him alone too. Or betray him in the end. Jack doesn’t believe that Sam could do anything like that. He’s too kind and wonderful to do anything like that. Lucifer starts sing-songing about his crush on Sam and how beautifully warped that is that he wants his own father’s sloppy seconds but wants his own father figure.

He leaves the room in a rush, needing to get away from him and sting of the truth that permeated in Lucifer’s words. Jack isn’t sure where to go because Sam will be in the library, Dean is either in the kitchen, garage, or shooting range, and Cas is out of the bunker. The kitchen Jack decides is the better bet; even if Dean is in there, he won’t poke and prod like Sam would since he is still pissed. Also, Dean doesn’t do “chick flick moments”... “Unless it was Sam,” Jack thinks.

Walking into the kitchen reveals the one person he is trying to avoid: Sam. Lucifer is making obscene gestures at Sam, including running his forked tongue on the side of his face. Sam is blissfully unaware of his father in all of his grotesqueness. He wonders if Sam has seen his real face as Sam’s voice breaks him out of his reverie.

“Hey Jack,” Sam says, “You hungry?”

Jack pauses. Sam looks worried. “I… was looking for a beer,” is what comes out.

Sam studies him harder and shifts to giving him, as Dean likes to call it, the “puppy dog thing”... He can see why Dean and Cas and pretty much everybody who sees it ends up telling him everything. He doesn’t want to worry Sam anymore since he killed Mary. Sam has enough on him. Dean is still grieving Mary, too, but Jack thinks Sam is probably burying his emotions. Lucifer is nodding in agreement with that thought.

“I’m fine,” is all he comes up with.

Sam doesn’t look satisfied by that answer, maybe sad. It is hard to tell since he lost his soul. He goes to the fridge and grabs a beer before going back to his room. He doesn’t see Sam tearing up.  
Later that evening, he finds himself in the Ma’lak box at Dean and Sam’s platitudes of keeping himself until they find out how to get his soul back. Jack didn’t expect it to be so dark and cold. He’s afraid that he’s being abandoned by the one person who he actually loves and loved him since his birth: Sam. 

He’s panicking when Lucifer comes back to him.

“Look at you, buddy. Ahh. You got played, man. Uh, I gotta hand it to the Winchesters. They still got game,” he tells Jack.

“They… They said I could trust them.”

“And you believed that crap? Buddy, buddy, trust is a two-way street, man. If they trusted you, why did they lock you up? You, my friend, are screwed,” Lucifer shoots back. 

The veneer of Nick is slipping in Jack’s panic; versus seeing the human face of Nick, he’s greeted with coal red eyes peeking out between the charred bones of the wings that covered his eyes, and face covered in scars from his fall, and a forked tongue slipping out an old open wound on his cheek.

“Am I getting through to you? Did they tell you the specifics of their cure? Are you getting a new soul? Does it have a factory warranty? Why didn't they tell you how much time it would take,” Lucifer asks seeing Jack directly looking at him.

“I don’t know,” Jack tells him with tears in his eyes.

“You don't know because you, my friend, are naive, clueless, trusting. And you know what? They suckered you. Why? you may ask? Okay. One, 'cause you're no longer useful to them. And, two, you killed their mother. Okay? There's no coming back from that. So this is it, for the rest of time.”

Jack tries to focus his power on breaking out of the box. He feels it rattle and moan underneath him. Lucifer is laughing off to his side, the bones fluttering in response to his chuckles.

“I'm sorry. Is that it? You have to do way better than that, buddy.”

Jack can’t handle being trapped here with his father for eternity. He wants Sam. He wants to believe that Sam wouldn’t do this to him. With the macabre sight of Lucifer’s true form in the periphery, he breaks out. He feels his wings expand as he’s freed, shielding him from the debris falling as Sam, Dean, and Cas open the door.

“Jack,” Sam says softly after watching him emerge from a cloud of dust. 

Jack can understand the rage Lucifer felt when Michael locked him away now. The people who loved him locked him away. They lied to him. Sam lied to him.

“You lied,” Jack screams throwing his arms out, causing Sam, Dean, and Cas to be thrown.

He flies out of the bunker. He can’t look at Sam but at least his father is gone.

Shuffling through the streets, Jack can’t help but hear all the lies and more lies. Lucifer isn’t trying to hide his true form now from Jack- burned, twisted, light seeping through the charred remains his face, the wings that cover his feet are bone with some sinew and feathers attached- the only part of him that shows his former glory is the wings on his back. He’s chattering, singing about the hairless apes are nothing but liars, it’s in their nature.

“You know, buddy, Sam… He’s different. He was made for me. Made to be my perfect vessel. He is led astray by Dean, though. I bet you Sam didn’t want to put you in there. It was probably Dean. Sam can’t help but listen to Dean- they’re so wound up in each other. You lived with them...”

“Stop lying,” Jack screams. He’s not sure what causes him to break: Lucifer or the cacophony of the street, being bombarded with lies. Lucifer disappears. The talking starts again. Truths spill out of people’s mouths and Jack smiles. Maybe he can do good after all.

With Lucifer gone, he can finally see Mrs. Kline. And maybe she’ll tell him more about his mother. Honestly this time.

Jack knocks on the door. He thinks back to how warm he felt inside when he first came here. Now… He remembers the feeling but he can’t feel it. He wants to feel it again. He wants to feel something again. Anything outside the cold hollow feeling deep inside. Mrs. Kline answers the door. She’s feeling something he thinks. He can’t put his finger on it. So he just goes with a simple “Hello” before entering. His grandmother didn’t seem to move out of the way like before. 

“I’m Jack.”

“I remember.”

“Well, good. I don't mean to bother you, but we talked before, and I liked that talk, and I thought we could just maybe talk again... maybe about your daughter,” Jack tells her. Maybe learning more about his mother will help him. Maybe somewhere in her memory, he can find a semblance of a soul. Maybe he’ll feel the way he did before: the guilt, the adoration, or some emotion in between.

“No,” she sharply replies.

“I don’t understand.”

“You lied to us. You said you worked with Kelly, but after you left, my husband and I, we made some calls, and no one knows who you are,” Mrs. Kline starts.

“I.. I didn’t,” he hesitates.

“Yes, you did. Kelly's not away on some "secret mission”. She… They think she's dead. What did you do to my daughter?! What did you do,” she screaming and crying.

“STOP,” he yells back in a rage.

She looks terrified. She gasping for breath. Jack realizes he’s doing this to her. He leaves before he can hurt anymore. He doesn’t need another Kline’s blood on him.

Lucifer is back now. Jack doesn’t know where to go. He can’t go back to the bunker. He saw the fear in Sam’s eyes.

“Buddy… You should know by now that you could never be like your mom. Or her family. They’re human. They’d never accept you. If anything after all that, they’d be the first in line to kill you. After all, you did kill their daughter,” Lucifer says in that mock caring voice.

Jack looks at him. He knows his father is in the empty. He put him back. But- he is doubting. Maybe a piece of Lucifer stayed on this plane. Maybe he is bad after all, just like his father. Maybe Lucifer before being pushed back into the empty embedded a piece of himself in his grace. He wonders if his true form is grotesque like Lucifer’s if Sam and Dean saw it. Cas never mentions if he can see underneath the human side. 

“Sammy though… He’d probably forgive the person he thinks of his son. Oh, if only I could go back in time to in the cage with him. He said he’d never want children with me. It’s hilarious that he did eventually raise my only son and such a good mother he was. Buddy, I see how you look at him. How you’ve come in your hand thinking of him. You know, Oedipus fucked his mother, right? He had four children with her. Sam would make a good consort for when you take down Dad. You and him could beget a new wonderful species. You could rule over everything even if is afraid of you… Sammy gets off on the fear you know? Makes him nice and tight… He acts like a frigid bitch. Never in the mood. But when you get him hanging off of you? It’s better than heaven that God ever made for us. The moans, the little grunts, and the way he can work those hips, you’d never guess that he was the librarian type.”

Jack knows he should be feeling guilty and embarrassed; his cheeks feel hot like the time Dean caught him looking at porn. Jack knows that he shouldn’t be listening to him. His father will lead astray like before. He needs a reason to fly away. He needs not to entertain the idea of him and Sam together and raising children. He feels Cas leave the bunker and driving towards the cemetery near the bunker. He runs towards Cas.

Jack comes to Cas when he slams his fist down on the hood of the pickup truck he’s driving. Cas looks relieved to see him. Cas looks at him not like he’s filled with decay and rot.

Jack spills why he made it that nobody could lie. He tells Cas about visiting his grandparents, Mary, and how he wanted to be good but now can’t feel anything. Lucifer is never brought up. Jack can’t bear the thought of telling his surrogate father that Lucifer still comes to him when he’s vulnerable. Cas is trying to reassure him that they just need more time, they need to find somewhere safe for him. He disagrees with Cas, that he’s no good. That he’s unclean. 

The sound of leaves moving catch both their attention. Dean is there, gun in hand. Cas tries to protect him but he casts him aside; he wants to die. Maybe in death and in the empty, he’ll feel something again other than the gnawing emptiness inside. All too quickly Sam and Chuck show up. Arguments happen with Chuck, frenetic and dizzying. A snap of fingers, Jack feels a fire inside of him crawling outwards. He hears Sam calling his name and Cas beside him trying to heal him, but all he sees is his father’s smile.

Jack wakes up to darkness, claustrophobic yet infinite, with phantom pain of being burned inside out still fresh in his mind. He caught something emerging from the vast emptiness, formless and inky, coalescing.

“What is going on,” he speaks, confused and lost, missing Sam and Dean and Cas despite everything that transgressed.

“Yeah, about that,” Billie responds, appearing behind him with her scythe. “There has been a change of plans for you.”

“What do you mean a change of plans,” Jack questions. 

The Empty is smiling, skin shifting, rippling. It looks like it wants to speak. He’s not sure if it can speak without a host. Jack moves back.

“We want you to kill God and become the new God,” Billie speaks plainly. 

The Empty looks to be vibrating, as if it is delighted to have God in his eternal garden, asleep for all of eternity. 

“Lucifer was right,” Jack questions. “Does that mean I can take Sam as my consort?”

“What does Lucifer and Sam Winchester have to do with this,” she inquires eying him.

“My father told me that I should kill God and become the new God. I could take Sam as my consort and have him beget my children,” Jack stammers. Billie is intimidating with her grasping onto the scythe harder as he mentions what Lucifer told him.

“It doesn’t matter as long as Chuck is taken care of.”

He awakes in the field where he assumes his body was given a hunter’s funeral. He still feels hollowness inside. Neither Billie or the Empty gave him his soul back; a part of him is relieved that he won’t feel anything killing his grandfather.

He should find Sam and Dean and Cas. He should let them know that he is alive again. But, he can’t right now. Lucifer is still with him. Lucifer is still chattering away throwing out plans on how to take down God. He starts small first, a miracle here and there just prove to himself that he is good, then he fixes the big problems. 

There’s a devil’s gate that opened in Crimea off the coast. The water is boiling, churning, and wine-colored. Screams can be heard coming from it; Jack appears on the shore next to a throng of people gathered there. Curious. A new sense of purpose. He feels the demons and human-demon hybrids escaping, it looks like ether and smells of rot. Jack walks on the water. His powers surge. The rocky formation crumbles. The screaming stops. He vanishes, a flutter of wings. The people that witnessed it agasp. Someone uploads it to Twitter. They are calling him a God.

He goes wherever something cataclysmic, Earth-ending event is happening. A village overtaken by the undead from the catacombs; the freshly dead and centuries-old corpses swarmed the area, biting and gnawing the flesh of the living. A quick flash of light and the undead collapse into the earth. A religious cult dedicated to Jack forms there.

A pack of djinn in the desert outside of Dubai gorge upon the lures of material wealth and eternal happiness spoke through wind and scorpions. He finds their haven; an oasis with deep sand dunes close by. Their victims are scattered out there, some already mummified like a thousand years has passed. He cannot help those already sucked dry from the djinn, but Jack can save the ones that are still dreaming. He crushes the scorpions and the winds that plead to the human side of him that he can find happiness- with Sam and no Lucifer’s sibilant speeches slipping from gaping maw and forked tongue- in this place with them. He’s destined to be a god. He’s destined to be with Sam.

At first, Sam and Dean thought it was the Men of Letters or some other hunters abroad helping out. The miracles? Maybe one of them, like, ten angels getting sick of being Heaven decided to help out the humans with Chuck’s appetite for destruction began. Cas has been popping in and out the bunker- he’s been relaying information to other hunters on how to kill or at least subdue their hunt. Sam and Dean have been going, going, going trying to figure out how to stop it all in time and keep it together over losing Jack. Sam’s grief manifested in the non-stop hunting; Dean misses the kid too, but he’s pretty sure that nothing-except for Cas who annoyed the Empty into flinging him back- can come back from there without some pretty hefty price. Not that he isn’t a hundred percent sure that Sam didn’t look into it. Still, they ramble on.

Since the beginning of the end the hard news- not the trashy daytime talk show types or public access news- has been questionable at best. Dean finds it rather amusing seeing the anchors reactions to zombies and rakshasas and long-dead serial killers coming back to life. He wasn’t laughing when he saw Jack, or what looks to be Jack, in a segment about the destruction of a landmark called the  
Devil’s Gate in Crimea. He watches the cellphone video- would it have killed the guy to hold his phone steady Dean thinks- of the Jack look-alike walk on the boiling, bloody water, raises his hand and the screaming stops as the rocky formation falls into the sea. Sam is looking horrified at the screen.

“That can’t be Jack,” Sam mutters. “We saw Chuck kill him. We burned his body!”

“I know, Sam. I’ll get Cas to look into it ‘cause he can just zap himself over there and back quickly.”

“Just… If he is back, why didn’t he come to us?”

“I don’t know. Still upset about us locking him the box? I don’t know Sammy.”

Dean sees that grimace the moment he mentions the box. Sam looks miserable. He wants to tell him that he’s sorry he even suggested the box. He really hopes that it isn’t Jack so that Jack doesn’t have to explain why he didn’t come back home, which would make it worse. He sends Cas a text when Sam goes back to researching their latest case.

Cas follows a trail or miracles, broken devil gates, and tales of a young boy saving villages and large groups of people from the supernatural after Dean texts him with the video. He’s always just shy of catching up when the trail goes cold. Cas wonders if this possible-Jack knows that he’s being followed. He also wonders how he can just seamlessly blend into the area when he thinks he has caught up. It’s infuriating to be so close to finding out if it is Jack or if it another creature or demi-god taking his form. For now, he texts Sam and Dean everything he has found including the religious cult.

Jack knows Cas is trying to track him. He cloaks his grace and blends into the crowd. He’ll perform minor miracles to those in desperate need when Cas gets too close. Lucifer tells him to never underestimate his brother. He makes sure he is extra careful after Cas crossed him on his way back from the desert.

When Sam prays to him though, he feels a warmth through this body. It’s more delightful than nougat, beer, burgers, and undoing the things Chuck did. He stops for the moment, cloistering himself in a quiet area to listen. He doesn’t like the desperation Sam is feeling. It leaves a thick black feeling in his mouth; it feels like how he’d imagine putting the used motor oil from the Impala in his mouth. He wishes he could go back, but he wants everything to be perfect for when he is united with Sam. He doesn’t want Sam to have to worry ever again. He doesn’t want their children to grow up in fear and death and decay.

This time he hears Sam’s prayer there is a longing. Or at least that is what Lucifer is calling it.

“Jack, if you are alive… If it is really you doing all those things… Why haven’t you come back to bunker yet? Why haven’t you at least called me to let me know you’re safe? We, Dean and I, could help you. I just miss you. And I want to apologize for everything I did like the box or not being there for you when you lost your soul. You didn’t have to see Donatello to ask about being soulless; I could’ve told you. Just… Just if you are alive, come back. I want to see you again. I want to get the image of your death out of my head.”

Jack hesitates. He really wants to go back to see Sam. And Dean, because Dean won’t be far from Sam. He is still angry with Dean; he did force Sam to put him in the box. Maybe he’s done enough good for them to see that he isn’t bad.

“Really? You are honestly thinking about going back there,” Lucifer mocks inching closer placing his hands on Jack’s shoulders. “You know Dean has always thought of you as a nuisance. You got in the way of the bro love fest thing they have going. Now, Sam… He’s praying to you to come back home. Has Dean even tried to reach out to you since they found out you came back?”

“No? But Dean has been busy? Maybe he’s the one that put Cas on my trail?”

“I bet he did. Cas always had a soft spot for the hairless apes. But question: why did Dean put a tail on you if he trusts you? If he thinks you are good?”

“I don’t know.”

“Did Sam ever question you during his prayers? Or was it all about how he hopes it’s you and to come back?”

“No… He just prays for me to come back and hopes I’m well.”

“There you go, buddy. Dean will always see you as an abomination. I don’t know how many times I have to tell you that Sam is different. Sam was meant to be with us. Forever. He was the only thing Dad did right for me. Us. Dean is too much like Michael. You know that. You saw how similar those two were even when Michael left Dean. He’ll only get in the way.”

“Dean isn’t anything like Michael! He just let Michael in to help Sam.”

“And don’t you think he’d do awful things to you if you came between him and Sam? C’mon, buddy, the only thing Dean cares about in this world is Sam. Without Sam Dean is just a killer.”

Jack feels cornered and flustered by his father trapping him, whispering in his ear with his bony sharp fingers digging into his shoulder, telling him that which he cannot answer. He doesn’t want to turn to see his father’s face, his true face. He hates that deep down, his true form is just as ghastly as his father’s. He can feel Lucifer smiling, atrophied and decayed muscles around his mouth moving against his head. He needs to getaway. He needs to see Sam.

Sam is in the bunker, researching for another hunter group about how to kill a god in the Mojave desert while Dean is on a beer run. He’s deep in thought looking when he hears the sound of angel wings.

“Hey, Cas, any news on Jack,” Sam asks not bothering to look up.

“Sam,” is the only thing that can come out Jack’s mouth with a beatific smile. 

Sam looks a bit worn and overextended, but Jack cannot think of anyone more beautiful. All the tiredness and world-weariness seems to melt away when he realizes that it is Jack. Sam is quick to engulf Jack in a hug. Jack feels at home here. Jack wants to feel Sam’s skin end his hands and not the flannel. 

“We saw you die, Jack. I prepared your body for your funeral. How… How are you back,” Sam questions.

“Billie and the Empty told me that I am going to defeat Chuck. I’m going to be the new God.”

“Billie told you that?”

“Yeah! And you are to be my consort,” Jack enthusiastically replies. “I’ll be good to you not like my father. And Dean can come, too. I know he would miss you if I took you away.”  
“Jack, do you understand what you are saying? Do you know what a consort is? And how do you know what Lucifer did to me?”

“You and I will be together forever after days. We’ll have children and Dean will be there, maybe he’ll find someone, too. Oh, my father told me. He says a lot of weird things about you.”

“Says? Like Lucifer is still here,” Sam asks, looking apprehensively.

“Sort of? He’s no longer hiding behind Nick’s appearance. He’s sitting on the table near the books you just reading.”

Sam glances over. Nobody is there. Sam’s getting a worried look. Nobody is over there from what Sam can see.

“I don’t see him, Jack. Are you the only one seeing him?”

“I think so, but I can’t tell. He talks a lot about weird things. Like when describes how you could’ve been my mother if he tried harder while you were in the cage together. The burned wings that cover his eyes retract when he talks about it.”

Sam gets pale at the mention of the cage. He takes a slight step back away from him. Lucifer is tsk-ing in the background at Jack. He doesn’t know why Sam is backing away.

“I’d never hurt you, Sam. I want a better world for you. I want you and Dean to be safe so I never have to lose you.”

“Jack I know that’d you never try to hurt me on purpose. But listening to whatever Lucifer is telling you isn’t good. I think you might be hallucinating him. He’s in the empty. Did Billie or the Empty give you your soul back?”

“I don’t think so? I don’t feel anything still. I know I should feel something, but I don’t. I do know that you’d be perfect consort though without Lucifer telling me. You’d help be good.”

Sam slightly shakes his head. Jack can sense the fear and confusion radiating off of him and probably thinking of when will Dean come back. He steps closer, wanting to touch him, hug him, make him realize that he’s still the same. Better even. Sam looks at him, fear in his eyes.

“What’s the matter, Sam?”

“Your face Jack! Why do you look like that,” Sam screams.

“I’m letting you see the angel side of me. To see that I haven’t changed. I’m still the same person. You’re the only person who’s seen it.”

Jack doesn’t understand. Sure the wings are back are bigger than Lucifer’s, but he doesn’t have any of the burns, rot, or even the red eyes barely covered by tattered wings. No serpent tongue either. He admits that wings on feet and cover his eyes are still growing, molting, and twisted, but that shouldn’t be alarming. Maybe it’s the cracks between his human form and angelic form, grace bleeding through almost incapable of housing him. He remembers in the Bible angels telling humans do not be afraid; maybe he should tell Sam that?

“Don’t be afraid Sam.”

“I… Jack… If Lucifer told you everything you should know why I am terrified.”

Jack conceals his true form once again watching Sam frozen in place. Lucifer is laughing in the background, taunting him about this. How he ruined, tainted Sam forever for him. Jack is furious at his father.

“I am not my father,” Jack states, pulling Sam closer to him in. “I will treat you better than him. I would never hurt you.”

Sam is deathly still outside of the quick, shallow breaths. He looks beautiful to him as an ancient Greek statue. He pulls Sam down into a kiss. He feels Sam’s heart beating rabbit quick, and he wants more. He wants Sam to move his lips like he’s seen in the movies. He moves his hands into Sam’s hair and pulls. Sam's mouth opens with a grunt and Jack takes advantage. He slips his tongue in like in the pornos Dean watches on Sam’s laptop. He finally feels something; a heady rush of desire and to claim. He feels himself getting hard; he thinks Sam is too. He’s too engulfed in the sensations to hear the door open.

“What the fuck is going on here,” Dean screams from the top of the stairs dropping the beer.

Jack pulls away, lips feeling numb. He glances up at Sam to see a bloody lip and a startled expression. Jack turns to look at Dean, who is rapidly descending the stairs.

“Hello, Dean. I’ve come to take Sam as my consort. You are coming along, too. I know you two are, as Lucifer put it, codependent on each other,” he states.

“You what now? I’m sorry, but a consort? What makes you think Sam or I would agree to that? We raised you!”

“Once I kill Chuck, I will need to redo some things. I need Sam to help procreate a new generation. You can help raise our kids. I’ll even let you have a wife or make a wife for you. We’ll be a family again.”

“Kid, I don’t think either of us wants that. Wait... Do kill Chuck, but none of that other stuff,” Dean tells him, slowly.

“I need a consort, a person to help me be good and guide our children in the right direction. Sam is perfect for it. Why can’t I take Sam as my consort?”

“Did you even ask Sam? ‘Cause I’m pretty sure he’s terrified right now.”

Jack looks over at Sam. He hasn’t moved since Dean interrupted them. He still has blood on lips, now clotted, and wide-eyed. 

“Sam are you afraid of me?  
Sam stands mute for a beat.

“Not of you, but what you could do. What will you do if I don’t become your consort,” Sam responds.

“I don’t know? I need you to tell me that what I am doing good. I don’t want Lucifer pulling me around anymore. I don’t want to force you, but sometimes he gets so loud that I just have to what he wants.”

Dean looks between Jack and Sam. Sam is getting that look of he’s going to do something stupid. Dean thinks this is the same look as when he told Dean of his plan to say yes to Lucifer

“Sam, don’t you dare…” Dean starts and cannot finish. Looking at Jack he sees his eyes glowing and Dean thinks that explains it.

“Dean, don’t you think Sam should decide without you forcing him? Like making Sam force me in the Ma’lak box?”

Dean actually fears Jack more now than when he broke out of the box. It sends him back to when they first met Lucifer in the motel with the Pagan Gods and in Detroit when Sam said yes. Dean knows that his brother will say yes to make sure the world is safe; he thinks his brother is insanely stupid if he thinks he’ll let happen even it means that dealing with Jack going supernova. He still tries to speak despite his voice caught in a vice by grace. He tries to signal to Sam, but he’s held still. Dean truly feels like an insect pinned to a board.

Jack turns to Sam, looking happy and bright as he did during the few halcyon days they had together.

“Sam, will you be my consort?”

Sam looks between Jack and Dean. Sam smiles at Dean, eerily reminiscent of when he said yes to Lucifer. Every fiber of Dean’s being wishes he could speak, move, anything to prevent this from happening. His brother looks like a sacrificial lamb or a saint about to be martyred: bloodied, resolute in his decision, and at peace.

“Yes, Jack, I will. Just promise me that Dean will be safe and that you’ll save our world.”

Sam can’t look at Dean, not during and not now. He keeps his focus on Jack, looking down at the child, no person, he raised. Jack looks so excited, much like when got the pencil to move for Sam. Sam can’t help but think of all the little steps that got him here and reconciliation of the boy he raised like his son will now become his… everything.

“Great! You’ll be so happy Sam! First, though, I have to change you and Dean. I don’t want either of you to ever die.”

Jack kisses him and brushes his fingertips against Sam’s temple. Sam feels the change in him, insides twisting, rearranging, forming a new animal. He thinks of Hans Christian Andersen’s Ariel, wondering if the ache between his shoulders will be forever as a punishment, except at least Ariel’s suffering ended when she ascended to the sky. Sam is lost in his silent agony when he hears Dean grunt as Jack presses his fingers against Dean’s temple. Sam gets to see Dean’s eyes flare that sickly blue- for a brief moment terror strikes him thinking of Michael- and the shadow of wings. Sam hopes that Dean doesn’t have the pain or weight like he feels- distantly he thinks of it as cosmic retribution of being Lucifer’s true vessel and having Lucifer’s child, who he raised, falling in love with him.

Jack looks so young and exuberant as he goes back to Sam’s side. Jack weaves his fingers between Sam’s, gently pulling him towards his old room. Sam lets himself be led; he hears Dean’s shouts and rationalizing about how Jack should kill Chuck first not fuck his brother. Sam tunes it out to just white noise- instead of focusing on the way his metaphysical wings drag on the ground behind him. The door slamming shut jars him from his reverie. Dean’s shouting and pounding disappears.

“I sent him away for our consummation. He’s fine, but he won’t distract us,” Jack tells Sam. 

Jack nuzzles Sam’s neck as he strips Sam of his shirt. Jack explores his skin, kissing, nipping, and licking his way down to Sam’s belt. Jack looks up to Sam from his knees as he unbuckled the belt.

“It’s okay Sam, you can touch me. I won’t remove your sense of touch like my father did,” Jack tells him as he unzips his belt.

Sam feels cold. Colder than when Lucifer possessed him. Still, he wants Jack to feel loved even if it’s making him sick. He’s pretty sure he will be the one Jack loses his virginity to- the only person Jack will ever know this way. Sam brings a hand to Jack’s head, combing his fingers through his hair- as Jack pulls down his jeans and underwear. Sam tugs gently on Jack’s hair, bringing him up as he steps out of his jeans. He initiates a kiss that Jack, in turn, returns with glee. Jack pulls away to rid himself of his clothes and pulls Sam in closer again. Jack can hear Lucifer getting excited perched in the corner of the room; he ignores it the best he can.

He moves Sam to the bed, laying out like he’s made of porcelain. Sam goes willingly, splaying his legs open. Jack watches in fascination as Sam shifts and moves, his muscles contracting. His mouth waters when he catches sight of Sam’s hole, small and dainty- he was expecting more open and wet, like the men in some of the porn he’s watched or the way Lucifer described it.

“C’mon champ, don’t leave him waiting. He’s never been this willing of a bitch. With me, it was all fighting and ‘Don’t touch me please’ and crying.”

“Where do I begin,” Jack asks Sam or Lucifer, he isn’t sure who he directed it to.

“Do you have lube,” Sam asks as Lucifer tells him to just fuck him.

“In my drawer,” Jack asks.

“Get it, put some on your finger, and start with a one,” Sam tells him.

He does what Sam asks. He starts with one finger like Sam asked, slowly working it in and out. Jack can’t imagine how good it’ll feel once he gets inside- Sam is so warm and taut, clinging to his finger. Sam still isn’t hard, but Jack figures maybe later he will be.

“Speed it up, son! He’s taken in much faster! You’ve turned him, too, so he can heal himself if anything rips,” Lucifer tells him, moving closer.

Jack pulls out his finger, looking at how Sam’s hole still looks too small to fit him and not wet enough- but he’s so hard and his father raises good points. He positions himself between Sam’s thighs, pulling his legs up around his waist, and pushes in. Sam hisses, clenches down hard on Jack, and grabs onto the sheets. Jack never knew it would feel so good, stopping for a second before rutting into Sam.

“That’s my boy! A chip off the ol’ block,” Lucifer boasts. “Play with his tits- they’re sensitive, just rub and pinch his nipples. He always begged so nicely when I did.”

Jack is lost in ecstasy. He feels something building, winding tighter and tighter inside of him. He kisses Sam’s neck, leaving nips here and there. He pulls Sam’s hips up higher, getting deeper inside of him, and bends forward for a kiss on the lips. Sam acts like he’s in pain, hisses when suddenly Jack feels like Sam got slicker, but can’t stop. His hands move to Sam’s hips to keep from moving, wiggling away. He wants to say something, anything, but he can’t outside of grunts and pants and moans. His hands clamp down hard as he pushes deep inside of Sam as he comes. He feels amazingly worn and satiated. 

He pulls out of Sam quickly to see his work. Sam’s hole is open, trying to flutter shut, puffy with a gash and violent red. There is blood on the sheets and Jack wishes that it was true that he took Sam’s virginity like the romance novels he’s read while bored. He runs a finger around his hole, feeling it contract, fascinated by the contrast of the red, red hole and the bubblegum pink insides. He feels Sam bear down as he sees a trickle of frothy white. He pushes a couple of fingers inside, spreading it all around, pushing down to see the way Sam’s insides churn.

Jack could spend an eternity here in this room with his beloved Sam. He wants nothing more to explore Sam and taste everything that he will give him. However, Chuck is still out there. He misses the warmth of Sam’s insides as he pulls out his fingers.

“I’ll be back Sam. Just don’t leave the bunker. Dean will be back soon, too, to protect you. I think I am ready to kill Chuck.”

Jack gets dressed and kisses Sam goodbye.

Sam curls up and thinks of eternity and seafoam.


End file.
